Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1887-07-01


spent the rest of the week in recovering, only
to emerge when the cure was effected and
fight their battles over again. Meanwhile
third cock, young in years but old in wisdom,
who steadily refused to fight when attacked,
looked after the hens in dispute. To-day the
fight was particularly ferocious, and, fearing
that the combatants would have no eyes left
at all if she did not interfere, Bessie called to
the old Boer hound who was lying i'll the sun
on the veranda:
ali, Stomp, Stomp-hunt them, StompW
Up jumped Stomp and made a prodigious
show of furiously attacking the embattled
cocks; it was an operation to which he was
used, and which afforded him constant
amusement Suddenly, however, as he
dashed toward the trees he stopped midway,
his simulated wrath ceased and, instead, az
expression of real disgust came upon his
honest face. Then the hair along his back
bone stood up like the quilts upon the fretful
porcupine, and lie growled.
"A strange Kaflir, expect" said Bessie to
herself.
Stomp hated strange kafiirs. She had
scarcely got the words out before they were
justified by the appearance of a native. He
was villainous looking fellow, with one eye,
and nothing on but pair of ragged trousers
fastened round the waist with greasy
leather strap. In his wool, however, were
stuck several small tlistended bladders, such
as are generally worn by medicine men and
witch doctors. In his left hand he held a
! long stick cleft at the end. In the cleft wa,
letter.
"Come here stomp" said Bessie and as
she did so a wild hope shot across her heart
like meteor across the night; perhaps the
| letter was from John
The dog obeyed her unwiling!y enough,
for he evidently did not like that kafiir; and
when he saw that Stomp was well out of the
way the Kaffir himself followed. lie was
an insolent fellow, and took no notice of Bes-
sic beyond squatting himself down upon the
drive in front of her.
what is t!" said Bessie, in Dutch, her lips
trembling as she spoke.
"A letter." answered the man.
"Give it to me-"
mo, missile, not till l have looked at you to
see if it is right. Light yellow hair that
curls-one," checking it on his fingers, eyes,
that is right; large blue eyes-two, that is
right; big and tall, and fair as a star-yes.
the letter is for you, take it." and he poked
the long stick up almost into her face.
"Where is it from'" asked Bessie, with sud-
den suspicion, recoilinS step.
"Wakkerstroom last"
"Who is it from"
"Read it, and you will see"
Bessie took the letter, which was wrapped
up in a piece of old newspaper, from the cleft
of the stick and turned it over and over
doubtfully. Most of us have mistrust of
strange looking letters, and this letter was
unusually strange To begin with, it had no
address whatever on the dirty envelope,
which was curious In the second place, the
Al. I'll
penny bit
Are you sure it is for me!' asked Bessie.
yah, yah-sure, sure" answered the ma.
tive, with a rude laugh. "There are not many
such white girls in the Transvaal | have
made no mistake. l have 'smelt you out "
And he began to go through his catalogue
"Yellow hair that curls," etc.-again.
Then Bessie opened the letter Inside was
an ordinary sheet of paper written over in a
bold, firm, yet slightly Impractical writing
that Bessie knew well enough, and the sight
of which filled her with a presentiment OF
evil. 1t was Frank Muler's.
She turned sick and cold, but could moi
choose, and read as follows:
"CAMP NEAR PRETORIA, Feb. Is.
"DEAR MISS BESSIE am sorry to have
to write to you; but though we have quar-
relied lately, and also your good uncle,
think it my duty to do so, and send this to
your hand by special runner. Yesterday
was sortie made by the poor folk in Pre-
toria, who are now as thin with hunger as the
high veldt oxen just before spring. Cur arms
were again victorious the redcoats ran away
and left their ambulance in our hands, carry
ing with them many dead and wounded
Among the dead was the Capt. Niel'-
Here Bessie gave sort Of choked cry, and